


though the heavens fall

by hotrodngold



Series: Turn It Off and Wait Ten Seconds [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotrodngold/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: When Steve tries to tell him it’ll be fine, it’s always ‘it wasn’t you, Buck’ and ‘you’re not the Soldier’. Which was both wrong, and stupid; heisthe Soldier. It very muchwashim.“Say it, Barnes,” Tony repeats, calmer. He stares at Barnes unflinchingly, like trying to will some great burden of wisdom into his soul. It pins him in place as it sears.





	though the heavens fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene that may or may not get included in a larger work; I wasn't sure if I could fit it into the scene as it's presently going, but I felt it was too important a moment of character interaction and development to leave to chance.

“No,” Tony almost barks it. “You didn’t _do it_ ; it was _done through you_.”

Bucky hesitates. Not a phrase he’s ever heard before. 

When Steve tries to tell him it’ll be fine, it’s always _’it wasn’t you, Buck_ ’ and ‘ _you’re not the Soldier_ ’. Which was both wrong, and stupid; he _is_ the Soldier. It very much _was_ him.

“Say it, Barnes,” Tony repeats, calmer. He stares at Barnes unflinchingly, like trying to will some great burden of wisdom into his soul. It pins him in place as it sears.

“ _I didn’t do it; it was done through me._ ”

Tony waits and Bucky stumbles through repeating it.

It doesn’t feel quite... right.

“It feels wrong, like you’re cheating, or something. Doesn’t it? Like you shouldn’t be allowed to get off scot free like that,” Tony says after several long, painfully silent moments. “Say it again.”

This time, Tony repeats it with him.

The silence lasts longer.

“When my parents died,” Tony says, and Bucky stumbles, doesn’t dare to breathe, “I inherited Stark Industries. I didn’t gain control of the company until I turned twenty one. In the meantime, my family’s company was headed by CEO Ob-,” Tony’s voice stumbled, then continued, “-adiah Stane. He’d been a friend of my father’s, practically an uncle.”

Bucky wanted to ask how he died, but the wound was still so obviously fresh. Tony continued on before he could figure out how to phrase it.

“SI was a weapons company, and a very profitable one. Forbes 25 listed our market value as the sixth largest in the country in 2007. I’m telling you this,” and he was _telling_ ; there was no scrap of pride there to turn it into a boast. “So that you understand the score when I tell you that, for some people, _that was not enough_.”

“Have you ever seen a Jericho missile?” Tony’s gaze is brought back to him, sharp as a nanometer blade.

Bucky shakes his head slowly, even as he pieces back through the shattered remnants of his returning memories.

“ _Good_. Good,” he repeats the word, the second time much less of a sharply satisfied snarl.

“I designed it. The Jericho was the third to last weapon I designed before I shut down SI’s weapons manufacturing, and the last line that we ever produced. We made one test missile, and I fired it in Afghanistan in a munitions demonstration in 2008.”

It hits him like a freight train, how tired Tony looks. The skin under his eyes is dark, made darker by the sallowness of his skin, the puffiness of his eyes. How those eyes occasionally have to be forced into focus.

“Three hours later, my convoy was attacked and I learned that my weapons were in the hands of the people I had been creating them to kill, and used to kill the soldiers I had designed them to protect. When I got home...”

Tony’s voice got unbearably tight. Bucky had to swallow around a sympathetic lump.

Tony cleared his throat, shook his head as if to clear it, and reached out a hand for a project as he continued to talk. He aborted the motion, and hovered over a discarded, half-complete technological box.

“When I got home I shut down all our weapon plants, reassigned all personnel, and set about discovering how to make my company the top clean energy company in the world.”

“When I got home,” Tony swallowed so hard, Bucky’s throat hurt, “I discovered Obadiah Stane had been selling those weapons, that they hadn’t been stolen out of FOBs or supply depots.”

Tony looks lost in memories, but Bucky watches one shaking hand come up to cover the arc reactor, to press it into his chest so hard his arm strains.

“He stole the reactor,” Bucky asks but doesn’t ask.

“He’d created his own bastardized version of the suit I escaped with. He couldn’t miniaturize the reactor he needed to power it,” Tony’s eyes find his. He looks away.

“ _I didn’t do it; it was done through me. _” Tony intones low and shaky.__

__Bucky thinks he might believe it._ _

**Author's Note:**

> In proving, once again, hotrodngold spends too much time thinking about things, the title is from the Latin saying _Fiat justitia ruat caelum_ ; "Let justice be done though the heavens fall", which alludes to the pursuit of justice no matter the cost, usually in the positive.
> 
> There's a very interesting negative interpretation of this axiom covered [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiat_justitia_ruat_caelum#Seneca:_%22Piso's_justice%22).


End file.
